


Softball

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Developing Relationship, M/M, Ogling, Pre-Relationship, Softball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 13:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11127810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Barba hasn’t quite worked out an explanation for when Olivia inevitably asks him what the hell he’s doing at an intramural police softball game.And it's not like he can tell her that he’s here because Carisismiledat him.





	Softball

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be writing one of the four other fics I'm working on at the moment today, but I went and saw a baseball game last night and did some oggling of my own, so this fic practically wrote itself.
> 
> I wrote Barba very differently than I normally do and while I had loads of fun with it (too much fun, probably), I'm open to constructive feedback since the last thing I want is OOC-ness.
> 
> Other than that, usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

A knock sounds on Barba’s door, and he’s well aware that it’s pathetic, but he recognizes the staccato rhythm without even needing to look up from the case file spread on the desk in front of him. “Detective. How can I help you?”

“How’d you know it was me?” Carisi asks, and now Barba does look up, favoring him with his most smug smile.

“I could smell the Staten Island on you all the way from here.”

Carisi rolls his eyes and makes a beeline for Barba’s coffee pot, and once upon a time, Barba might have told him that his coffee wasn’t for sharing or else joked that Carisi needed to say the magic word before he got coffee, but Barba’s discovered that with a cup of coffee in hand, Carisi stays longer in Barba’s office than he intended, and, well, not that Barba _wants_ Carisi in his office, but, well—

Barba’s thoughts never used to be get this flustered, and he supposes he can thank the detective for that as well.

In an effort to get his dangerously-close-to-derailing thoughts back on track, Barba clears his throat as he watches Carisi pour himself a cup of coffee. “Seriously, is there something you needed, or are you just taking advantage of my coffee pot?”

Carisi flashes him a distracted smile and Barba’s heart does _not_ start beating faster because he is an Assistant District Attorney and deserves some respect, damnit, even from his traitorous internal organs. “What, a guy can’t just come over to say hi?” Carisi jokes.

“A guy? Certainly. You? Less so.” Barba makes a pointed effort to look away from Carisi. “Though if all you wanted was to say hi, congratulations, you’ve said it, now kindly vacate my office.”

Carisi does not vacate the office, instead plopping down across from Barba’s desk and take a swig of coffee. “Fine, so I didn’t just come here to say hi,” he admits, and Barba rolls his eyes and gives him a ‘No shit, Sherlock’ look. “I actually wanted to see what you were doing tomorrow.”

It takes Barba a minute to place what day of the week it is so that he can figure out what tomorrow is. “On my first free Saturday in weeks? Certainly not whatever you’re about to suggest.”

Carisi pouts at him, and there is literally nothing that should be attractive about that, and _yet_. “C’mon, Counselor, you haven’t even heard what I’m about to suggest.”

“And yet, somehow, I doubt I need to hear it to know it’s not going to be something that I want to do.” Still, Barba can’t help but favor Carisi with a mildly interested look. “Of course, I doubt that’s going to deter you from telling me anyway, so—”

“How do you feel about baseball?”

Barba blinks. “I have no particular feelings one way or another, although, I suppose I’m a Yankees fan on principle.” He looks suspiciously at Carisi. “Why?”

Carisi grins. “Tomorrow’s the 16th precinct’s annual softball game against the 27th precinct. I thought you might want to come watch.”

“Please tell me what exactly I did to make you think that I would want to come watch a softball game, mainly so that I can ensure to never repeat it.”

Carisi just laughs. “C’mon, Counselor, it’ll be fun. I’m playing, you know — first base.”

He waggles his eyebrows at Barba, who just stares at him. “Is that meant to entice me to come?”

“What, you’ve never wanted to watch me play softball?”

Barba’s wanted to watch Carisi do a variety of things, mostly in his bedroom, but he’s certainly not going to tell Carisi that. “I can’t say that I have,” he says dryly. “So please, tell me, what’s in it for me if I come watch you play softball?”

Carisi clearly senses that Barba’s not as opposed to the idea as he should be, and his grin widens. “Well, other than getting to witness my stellar softball skills, the Lieu’ll be there, and besides, it’d be good for team morale to have you there.”

“Team morale?” Barba questions, and though he might just be imagining it, he’s pretty sure Carisi blushes, just a little.

“It’ll be good for my morale, at least,” Carisi tells him. “I play better when I have an audience.” He pauses before adding, smugness in his tone, “Just like you in court.”

Barba’s eyes narrow. “Are you comparing my skills in the courtroom to your softball abilities?”

Carisi gives him a mocking, wide-eyed, ‘Who, me?’ look. “I would never dare,” he says solemnly, ruining the moment by adding, “I’d rather let you come see for yourself.”

Barba sighs and glances pointedly at the clock. “Will agreeing to come get you to actually leave my office?” he asks.

“Not only will I leave your office, but I’ll buy you a hotdog at the game,” Carisi promises, grinning.

“Keep the hotdog,” Barba says. “For this, you’ll owe me a drink.”

Carisi’s smile lights up his entire face, and honestly, it’s almost worth agreeing to go to an intramural police softball game just to see Carisi smile like that. “Deal.” He stands, draining the rest of his coffee before telling Barba, “I’ll text you the details. You won’t regret it.”

He lobs his empty coffee cup towards Barba’s trash can and misses by a mile. Barba sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I already do.”

Carisi laughs, picks his coffee cup up and disposes of it properly and gives Barba a little wave before disappearing from his office, calling over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow!”

Barba returns to the case file in front of him, but can’t seem to wipe the stupid, almost dreamy smile from his face. “Traitor,” he mutters, but not even that causes his smile to fade for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

 

The next day, however, when Barba arrives at the park, his smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced by a scowl for having been stupid enough to be talked into this. Besides which, he hasn’t quite worked out an explanation for when Olivia inevitably asks him what the hell he’s doing there.

It’s not like he can tell her that he’s here because Carisi _smiled_ at him.

He’s beginning to realize how monumental of a mistake this was and is even considering fleeing when Carisi spots him and waves excitedly. “Barba!” he calls, and Barba resists the urge to run and hide. But only barely.

Carisi jogs over from the baseball diamond and Barba gets a good look at him for the first time, his jaw dropping in a particularly undignified fashion because Carisi is wearing tight white baseball pants. Carisi is wearing tight white baseball pants, and they hug his hips and thighs in the most delicious way possible, and if Barba was looking for a reason to stay, he’s pretty much found it.

He’s also going to have to figure out a way to stop staring before Carisi can get to him and realize exactly what he’s looking at.

“Counselor,” Carisi says, jogging up to him. “Glad to see you made it.”

Barba cocks his head slightly, glad that he’s wearing his sunglasses so that Carisi can’t see his expression. “Did you think I wasn’t going to come?”

Carisi rubs the back of his neck, causing his t-shirt to ride up a little, and Barba is definitely not staring at that either. “I mean, I wouldn’t have been surprised,” he admits.

“I keep my promises, Detective,” Barba says lightly. “Especially when the promise of alcohol is involved.”

For some reason, that makes Carisi laugh, and Barba can’t help but smile as well, especially when Carisi touches his shoulder, leaning into him to point out where Olivia was sitting in a set of rickety-looking bleachers, Noah playing in the shade a few feet away. “You should go sit by the Lieu. And I’m glad you’re here.”

His tone is a little too sincere, and Barba trips over whatever retort he was planning on giving, instead settling for nodding and heading in Liv’s direction. If Olivia’s surprised to see him, she doesn’t mention it, instead just waving as he approaches. “How’d you get roped into coming?” she asks when he settles onto the bench next to her.

“I owed Carisi a favor,” Barba lies.

Olivia’s eyebrows raise slightly. “And he decided to cash it in on a Saturday afternoon softball game?”

Barba shrugs, keeping his expression as innocent as possible. “Apparently,” he says, as noncommittally as he can before looking over at Noah and changing the subject. “How’s Noah?”

Though Olivia gives him a look like she knows there’s more to whatever happened with Carisi than Barba is letting on, she tactfully chooses to accept the subject change. “He’s great,” she says with enthusiasm, launching into a long-winded story about playing at the park that Barba’s only half paying attention to.

When the story winds down, Barba asks, “Where are Detectives Rollins and Tutuola? I expected to see them here supporting their precinct.”

“Fin volunteered to be team manager,” Olivia tells him, pointing towards the far dugout, and Barba can just make out Fin, who appears to be paying exactly zero attention to his team’s warm-ups. “He claims that it’s practice for sergeant. I think he just didn’t want to play.”

Barba chuckles and shakes his head, unsurprised by that. “And Rollins?”

Olivia gives him a measured look. “Rollins was smart enough not to get roped into participating.”

“Then she’s smarter than me, that’s for sure,” Barba mutters, though he’s smiling.

“I’m going to tell her that you said that,” Olivia tells him, smiling as well.

Barba laughs. “Go ahead,” he says, looking out at the field. “She’ll never believe you.”

Noah calls out for Liv, and Olivia goes to deal with him, effectively bringing their conversation to an end, which is just as well, since the game is starting. Of course, the start of the game really only serves to remind Barba just how much he hates baseball and softball, since it’s the single most boring sport on the planet.

But then Carisi bends over slightly to rest his hands on his knees as he waits at first base for the ball to head his way, and Barba’s breath hitches in his throat. How had he previous to this moment never noticed just how exquisite Carisi’s ass is?

Because it was exquisite. And perfect. And round and firm and Barba’s thoughts are heading down a path that is distinctly inappropriate for the setting, and he crosses his legs in a way he hopes isn’t at all conspicuous.

“You know, if you stare any harder, Carisi’s ass might just catch on fire,” Olivia says, having clearly followed his line of sight.

“Language,” Barba admonishes automatically, tearing his eyes away from Carisi’s butt to nod at Noah, who is digging in dirt and not paying any attention.

Olivia just laughs, a knowing, almost smug look on her face. “Not going to deny it?” she teases.

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Barba says, a little primly, though he also adds, knowing full well that he’s been caught and that a categorical denial will only do more harm than good at this point, “Not that there’s anything wrong with looking.”

Olivia hums in agreement, but she’s still smiling in far too satisfied a way, so Barba makes a show of pulling out his phone and spending the next twenty minutes checking his email instead of checking out Carisi. When even his usually never ending stream of emails runs dry, Barba returns his cellphone to his pocket and transfers his attention back to the game, carefully avoiding looking at Carisi.

But as it turns out, time goes much faster when he’s staring at Carisi, and it takes only a few innings for Barba to give up any pretense of paying attention to anything other than the way Carisi looks in tight white pants. Carisi’s certainly not the world’s best softball player, not by any stretch of the imagination, but compared to some of the other players, he’s decent, and even manages to make a few good plays. Barba’s glad for that, because then he feels like he has permission to watch Carisi. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

Noah gets bored even sooner than Barba does, and Olivia leaves to take him home, giving Barba an apologetic smile for abandoning him. Truth be told, the game itself is both boring and low-scoring, and if it wasn’t for the vision of Carisi in tight pants, Barba probably would’ve left with her, offered to walk her to her car and just not come back to the baseball diamond.

As it is, his patience is rewarded when, in the bottom of the ninth inning, Carisi manages to hit the game-winning homerun, and Barba gets to watch Carisi jog around the bases, and he joins the few other spectators (mostly spouses, though he pretends not to notice that) as they applaud, rolling his eyes good-naturedly when Carisi raises his arms in triumph.

He’s doubly rewarded when, after finishing his run and exchanging handshakes and high-fives with both teams, Carisi strips his t-shirt off and uses it to wipe the sweat off of his face. And Lord, if Barba thought the white pants were the stuff fantasies were made of, the sight of Carisi barechested in tight white pants is definitely going to have Barba moaning into his pillow tonight.

If Olivia was still there, he could ask her to join him in congratulating Carisi on a well-played game, since there’s nothing suspicious about two colleagues congratulating another after a softball game. Then again, it’s probably more suspicious for him to _not_ go congratulate Carisi.

So that leaves Barba with no other excuse, and he makes his way over to where Carisi is guzzling a water bottle. “Detective,” Barba says, falling back on formality in an effort to stop himself from saying something wildly inappropriate. “Good game.”

Carisi lights up when he sees Barba, and it’s just not _fair_ for Carisi to not only stand there barechested and glistening with sweat in a pair of pants that perfectly hug the curve of his ass but to also smile at Barba like he’s Carisi’s favorite person in the world. “Thanks, Counselor,” Carisi tells him with an easy grin. “I’m surprised you stayed the whole time.”

“Well, the game had a few redeeming qualities,” Barba tells him. “Besides, I needed to work on my tan.”

“Mmm,” Carisi says in agreement, eying Barba’s arms, something almost appreciative in his expression. “Ya know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed so casually.”

Barba frowns down at his outfit, his slim-fit gray chinos and white linen button-down, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Don’t get used to it,” he warns.

Carisi gives him a slow, almost lazy grin. “I wouldn’t dare.” Barba rolls his eyes and Carisi tells him, “The whole team is heading to a bar not too far from here to celebrate. You should come with us.”

While Barba’s initial instinct is to say yes, because Carisi’s still smiling at him and still barechested and he is apparently a weaker man than he thought, he nonetheless hesitates, because it is one of his only free Saturdays, and he’s sure he has things he needs to do, groceries to buy, laundry to wash, even just reading to catch up on.

But Carisi’s still smiling at him, so Barba hedges, “That depends.”

“On what?” Carisi asks.

“On whether you’re going to actually put your shirt back on at some point.”

Carisi’s grin turns cocky. “Why, Counselor, distracted by what you see?”

Barba gives him a critical look before telling him flatly, “Only insofar as I’m distracted by how blindingly pale you are.”

Carisi laughs loudly. “Fair enough,” he says easily, taking another swig from his water bottle before pressing, “But you are gonna come, right? I mean, I owe you at least one drink for coming to the game.”

“Fine,” Barba agrees after only a moment’s further hesitation. “But you owe me a hell of a lot more than one drink.”

Carisi laughs again. “Deal.” With that, he dumps the rest of his water bottle over his head, and Barba barely manages to take a step back to avoid being splashed. He opens his mouth to protest, but instead finds himself watching the way the water cascades down Carisi’s head and chest, and he closes his mouth again, if only to stop himself from licking his lips.

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower,” Carisi tells him, rousing Barba from his reverie of staring at Carisi’s abs.

“Good,” Barba says, a little distractedly. “You need a shower.”

Carisi laughs and turns towards the park’s bathrooms, pausing to tell Barba, “Wait for me and we can walk over to the bar together.” Then he jogs towards the bathrooms, leaving Barba trying not to stare after him.

If the bar ends up anything like the game, Barba is going to need a shower as well — a very long, _very_ cold shower.


End file.
